Inspiration Of A Donkey
by electricity.escape
Summary: BOCD Art Class. "Smearing paint on a canvas is not expressing yourself. Shaking your bare butt to the public, now that's expressing yourself."


**Disclaimer- I do not own the clique or any brands mentioned**

**(AN) Just in case you don't understand, when Cam's dialogue is all in italics, it means that he didn't actually say it out loud. You'll understand once you read ****on...**

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BOCD

Art Room

8:57 AM

First period of the day, and I had art. Of all the other electives to choose, Cam forced me into _art_.

"You get express yourself." He says. Smearing paint on a canvas is not expressing yourself. Shaking your bare ass to the public, now _that's_ expressing yourself.

We finally got out of those Tiffany Boxes, _thank God_, but can you guess who sits across from us in art? Massie Block and Claire Lyons. Our exes. But not that that is much of a problem for Cam, because he's so '_In The Zone' _during art class. I try not to say anything to them. It's not that I'm _scared_ of them , it's just that Massie might, and probably _is _holding a grudge...Or she could go all Kung Fu Panda..._Not a bad movie_. Anyways, plus the fact that I _still_ like her adds to it.

So that is why I am failing art class.

"I hope everyone wrote their poems that described themselves." Ms. Murphy, the art teacher said. I scoffed. "Because, today you are going to do sketch book page illustrating it. Due by the end of the period, 10:00 AM." She walked over to where I was sitting and handed me a sheet of paper. "Begin."

It was an email:

_--Original Message--_

_Sent: Nancy Harrington_

_To: Ms. Murphy_

_Subject: Derrick's Art Grade_

_Please make sure Derrick reads this note. Thank you_

_Derrick-_

_If you do not pass this project that you are doing today in art class, you can kiss those tickets to see LA Galaxy for your birthday goodbye._

_-Mom_

I sighed, threw the paper away and sat back down, staring at the blank sketch book page in front of me.

Writing a poem can't be _that_ hard. I checked the time. _9:05 AM._ Just describe yourself in a poem and illustrate it, easy enough, I should be done by 9:30.

_9:31 AM_

I blinked once, twice, third time's a charm, but the sketch book page was still blank.

I looked over to Cam, who was drawing something on a black background. It was...a 3D rectangle, with a straw...a juicebox! I peeked over to see his poem:

_As the world goes by can we not see,_

_That the world as we know it is growing weak? _

_The rainforest in which rain pours,_

_Can we not see they are becoming no more?_

I stopped reading, it was too good. It was about him wanting change. But what did it have to do with a juicebox? Wait... he's now cutting out a flap from the front rectangle of the juicebox, so it will open and close like a book...And he's going to put the poem inside of the flap. Oh..it was reference to _'can we not see' '_cause when you drink from a juicebox, you can't really _see_ the stuff inside of it...And 'Juicebox' was his favorite Strokes song! I looked away. It was utter genius with it's metaphorical references to the song title and the poem...That actually sounded _smart_! I chuckled to myself.

Looking over to Clarie's page, I squinted. _So much yellow_. She was describing herself as a color. I strained to read some lines of her poem, which was written in, _yellow_.

_Summer days you bright the sky, warming faces of that gentle passerby._

I guess she was the bright, sunny, yellow person. But then again didn't she turn all depressed when Cam dumped her? I shrugged it off and peeked at Massie's paper, and squinted once again, with all of it's sparkling-ness and shine, I could only read the title. _Trailers to Tiffany Boxes_. Probably reference to how she felt, compared to the transformed look of the trailers. I saw some words: _Grungy. Grueling. Shimmery. Gleaming_. 'Good use of adjectives' the teacher would probably say. I checked the time.

_9:40 AM_

I spent around ten minutes being art- critic to them, though no ideas came to mind. I needed inspiration or I could 'kiss those tickets to see LA Galaxy for your birthday goodbye.'

"Cam." I said. He was skillfully writing his poem inside the flap of the sketch book page, with a thin point Sharpie marker

"Cam." I say again. He frowns, he heard me, but he never took his eyes off his page.

I knew it was going to be one of those 'silent conversations' where Cam didn't say a thing, but used body language to communicate. Knowing Cam for all these years, I could figure out _exactly_ what he was saying.

"Cam." I said once again. He sighed, put the Sharpie down, and sharply turned and glared at me, not saying a word. "I need inspiration." He sighed again and picked up his Sharpie, going back to his work. "_Please_."

Cam twirled his Sharpie in a circular motion, which meant 'anything could be inspiration'.

"But it has to _inspire_ me, if I don't get any inspiration, I can't go to the LA Galaxy game." I whined.

Cam scoffed and rolled his eyes. _"Not that I care, you didn't invite me."_ He 'said'.

"But dude, I didn't invite _anyone_. I have to fly cross-country to see them. Do you know how much money that costs?"

Cam scoffed again. _"We live in Westchester, dumbass, parents are rich. Flying to California is like the equivalent of spending a dollar."_

"True, but my parents don't like to spend money."

Cam raised one eyebrow. _"What about that yellow Lamborghini in your garage that has never been driven."_

Even though a spoken word didn't come out of Cam's mouth, I knew he was thinking about the car. "My dad says it's for 'decoration'."

_"A 280,000 dollar car used only for 'decoration'."_ Cam raised one eyebrow again. "_So they don't spend money for an extra ticket, but they have a car for 'decoration.' Wow. Just Wow."_ Cam 'said'.

"I know it doesn't make sense, but that's how they are. Anyways, back to the subject, give me inspiration!"

Cam shrugged and pursed his lips. _"I don't have any 'inspiration.'"_

"Just help me!" I pleaded. But all Cam did was smirk and point his Sharpie towards the clock.

_9:50 AM_

"You suck, I hope you know that." I said.

"Who are you _tawking _to?" Massie questioned.

I cringed at her Valley Girl voice. Why couldn't she say 'talking' like a normal person? But then again, I did kinda _like_ the way she spoke. "Cam."

Massie looked at Cam, who was still hovered over his work, though he was smirking a little. He obviously enjoyed this. "He ahb-viously isn't paying attention to you."

"Yes he is, right Cam?" Cam pretended to not hear.

"Can't you see he's trying to concentrate? And all you do is bother him. So egotistical. You're an ass, Derrick."

"We were having one of our 'silent conversations'." I said. Massie slowly shook her head, sighed and looked down, trying to hide her grin.

_You're an ass._

_You're an ass._

_You're an ass._

I widened my eyes and clapped once. "You gave me inspiration!" I shouted at Massie. "Cam, what are the syllables for a haiku, six-nine-six?"

Cam put the cap on his Sharpie, leaned back and admired his work. After thirty seconds he said, "Five-seven-five." It was the first thing he said out loud the whole period.

"Thanks," I sat down and wrote.

_"You're an ass", she says_

_Big egotistical ass_

_Donkey? Yes I am_

"What?" Cam said looking over him.

"It metaphorical, 'cause ass also means donkey. So, '_Donkey? Yes I am'_, means that I think that you are calling me a donkey, not an 'ass'. You get it?"

"Being a donkey, isn't really the best thing to be." Cam read my poem again. "That is the _worst_ haiku I've read in my life."

"You know, I really love it when we have those 'silent conversations' 'cause I really don't want all your negative comments about me voiced to the world." I said while I hastily colored my sketch book page with brown marker, and randomly drew two circles in black, a larger circle in red and, four legs on the page.

"What is _that_?" Cam spat.

"It's _abstract_. A donkey if you _must_ know." I said as I copied my haiku onto the page.

Cam tilted his head to the right and squinted. "Donkeys don't have red noses. Unless you're thinking of Rudolph."

"It's _abstract_."

Cam rolled his eyes. "Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock." He said, just to annoy me.

"Art materials down." Ms. Murphy said right when I finished writing the last word. She started walking around the tables, examining our work.

"Do you really think that _shit_ will earn you a good grade?" Cam sneered.

"I don't know why everybody says you're so nice, 'cause you not. All you did all class is make fun of me." I pouted.

"Suck it up."

"You have _no_ heart, Cameron Fisher." I faked sobbed. "What if Claire hears this?"

"First of all, I don't like her. Second: They're gossiping, so we practically don't exist."

I looked across the table at them. They were in fact, _gossiping_.

"Don't stare." Cam snapped. "...Wait a minute, you still like Massie, don't you?" He whispered, eyes widening in realization.

"How did you know?" I hissed.

Cam chuckled. "I _didn't_. I wanted to see if you would confess if I confronted you." I gave Cam the dirtiest look I could come up with, though he didn't seem fazed by it. "It's psychology." He said and quieted down as Ms. Murphy neared our table.

"Very, very good use of metaphors." Ms. Murphy said to Cam. "Well done." She picked up his sketch book. "I'm going to photograph this page to use as an example for other classes."

"Okay." Cam smiled his nice-boy smile.

"Bitch then Nice-Boy Switch all in a matter of seconds, how _do_ you do it Cam?" I whispered. Cam kicked me under the table.

"Good, strong adjectives." Ms Murphy said to Massie. "Nice use of an Element of Design, Claire." She said, a walked over to me. I gulped. She studied my sketch book page for a moment. "Simplistic. Metaphorical. Abstract. I like it. A minus." _LA Galaxy Crisis aborted._ Cam's jaw dropped. I smirked at him once she left.

I looked at Massie. "Ass" she mouthed to me and grinned. I grinned back

This could be the start of something new...wait a minute I _hate_ that movie.

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**Eh..It sucked. Bad. It was just something to get me out of my writers block. Review if you feel like it. Peace.**


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